A Father's Job
by theAkuRokuFaNaTiC
Summary: It doesn't matter how old his little boy gets; a father's job is never quite done. A daddy never stops worrying, and when Kid is hurt, then his dad is just as injured. Family Fic with Shinigami-sama and his Kid.


**A.N.: Thank you, Writing App! I worked on this little monster (not a long story, but difficult on an iPod Touch) for about two or three days. But yeah, I've recently got back on my addiction with Soul Eater, and I'm a total sucker for family scenarios, especially Lord Death and Kid. Death is second on my list of anime dads. First is- You know what, if you can guess, I will write a fanfiction for you (if only someone wanted my fanfictions as prizes). But yeah, if you want a fanfic, guess my favorite anime dad.**

**I love the relationship between these two, and I just have one question: Patricia, Kid's partner. Is her name Patty, like Krabby Patty? Or Patti, like Patti LuPone?**

**Also, I don't own Soul Eater, and I hope you guys enjoy this story!**

All it takes is one little moment for one's world to come crashing down around them. For Shinigami-sama, it is when his mirror lights up. The streets of Death City are illuminated by dim streetlights, the Nevada desert swirling around in little pools of sand.

Liz is the first thing the ruler of Death sees. Actually, he's looking up at her. She has gravel embedded into her hands and cheeks, and there is blood coated onto the side of her blonde head. Her fingers are shaking, barely able to support her younger sister. Shinigami-sama can see a few smears of something red on the screen, and he suspects either blood or Patty's limitless supply of strawberry jelly.

Patty is shaking despite the warmth; she has a gaping wound on her shoulder, hunched over on all fours. It's like she can't feel the weak hand around her waist. Too stunned to speak, the Shinigami watches. He can't help by he curious as to what happened, and he also can't chase off the worry that is pooling in the bottom of his stomach.

"Kid," Liz says, shaking someone's shoulder. It's obvious that she cannot see the Reaper, or she might've already asked for help. The younger Thompson sister also looks down, but her brown furrows in mild understanding.

"Please help," Patty whispers, nudging her sister on the side. Liz is too preoccupied in whatever she's doing to turn around, but she does grunt in response. "Lizzy…"

At this point, Death is worried. He's been worried before, but now he is almost certain he knows what (or who) Liz is tending to. The taller girl has sweat beaded on her forehead and neck; she is biting her lip when her hands retract, coated with fresh, red blood. A cold feeling is starting to settle in on Shinigami-sama's body. Normally, he is warm and toasty because of his long black coat (and perhaps an outfit underneath), yet he is shivering almost as bad as Patty now. Kid… It's odd, that the Reaper starts to think of a few memories, irritating as they may be. He should be helping in any way possible, but he feels paralyzed with fear. Kid has been injured before; Death has just never not been allowed to see his son.

: 3 :

Kid, being nervous when he first meets Death Scythe. The boy is much smaller in comparison to the redhead, but Spirit only smiles and extends a hand. Kid stares at it for a moment, before placing his smaller hand into Spirit's. The Death Scythe is silent, a strange and serene moment for Death; but as quickly as it started, Spirit is scooping Kid up into his long arms. "You're so cute! Not as cute as my Maka, but still adorable!". To be even more annoying, Spirit had changed his r's to w's.

After a well-deserved Shinigami Chop, Kid is once more clinging to his father's cloak, and the most honorable Reaper decides that he doesn't care for anyone holding his son.

: 3 :

Death Scythe does redeem himself, fortunately. He and Maka (his admittedly cute daughter that hangs on her father's every word) are visiting the Gallows. Spirit has something tucked under his arm, a box, if Shinigami-sama is not mistaken. As means of precaution, he keeps one mirror on at all times, just to watch his darling son.

Not yet paying attention, Kid is trying to redesign the stairwell. The rungs are not quite right, in the ebony-haired boy's eyes. He has a pencil balanced on his ear and a clipboard in hand. He only looks up when Maka makes a noise of surprise. She has always been impressed by Kid's attention to detail, and this is no different.

"Good morning, Death Scythe," Kid says formally. He takes one more second to reassure himself that the stairs look proper, and then he walks to where Spirit is admiring the house. "I'm not quite sure what to say to get you to ignore the mess." Kid says it in such a convincing way, but there really is no mess. The place, as always, is immaculate with its hardwood floors and plush carpets and bay windows and large dining room tables. Of course, Spirit takes everything in a good nature and pats Kid on the head. He takes good care to assure that he won't disrupt the style of the Shinigami's hair.

For a moment, Kid smiles much like a child would. Adorable and giggly, like Maka. But he quickly catches himself and returns to brooding about his staircase. It's not hard to believe that Kid has fallen down the steps many times just because he was staring too hard on the steps.

"I brought you and Maka something to play with!" Death Scythe says excitably. He reaches an arm out for his blonde child, and she squeals with delight when he opens the box. It's a video game, the old joystick kind. They are not quite out-of-date, but they certainly aren't what's hip for the young people. Kid stares with a confused expression as Maka claps. The redhead pulls out a few cords and joysticks and walks over to the large television in the den. He sits Indian-style, tongue sticking out to the side, and he looks very much the young man that he still is. People still don't understand why Spirit was made Death Scythe at such a young age. Shinigami-sama likes watching people guess.

While Spirit is setting up, Maka and Kid race off in the direction of the library. There are no mirrors (or windows, ironically) set up in that room, and Kid will most likely forget that he always has a compact mirror in the pocket of his shirt. Unlike Kid's white and black outfit (white dress shirt, black pants and shoes), Maka has on a knee-length pink jumper with a pale yellow long-sleeved underneath. Her hair ties are yellow flowers, and she still has her signature pigtails. She has on a pair of white tights and pink Mary-Jane's. In short, she is the frilly child that every father secretly wants to dress his child like.

Death is watching Spirit work. The redhead has his hair down around his face, even though Kami tells him that it gets in his way too often (she has threatened to cut it off). In his jacket, the Shinigami suspects, are a dozen or so pictures of his daughter in a dozen or so different poses. It's hard to believe how much one man can dote on a five year-old, but Death Scythe manages it. Spirit finally gives a yell of success when the Pong logo lights up on the television screen. He calls for the children, who make it back into the den in record time. Maka is bouncing on the balls of her feet, while Kid eyes the screen warily. When Death Scythe places a joystick in each little one's hand, Maka immediately sits herself down to begin playing. Kid is more hesitant, understandably.

"C'mon, Kid!" Maka says. "This game is no fun with only one person…" As a good friend, Kid considers his options for only a moment. He plops down onto the ground beside Maka, careful not to wrinkle his clothing too much. The joystick is held awkwardly in his tiny hand, and he watches the screen with obvious discomfort.

"Asymmetrical…" he mutters sadly, moving his character (or so Shinigami-sama thought it was - it was only a thin rectangle) to the middle of the screen.

Maka groans when the pixellated ball goes right past the rectangle. "Kid! You're supposed to hit it back and forth!" the girl explains; she is near-pouting, and Death Scythe is biting his lip nervously. He seems to think that an argument will erupt between the two tots. The Reaper is not so sure.

Intervening, the lord of Death boisterously talks. "Death Scythe! A word, if you will." Spirit leaves the pair obediently, and he walks in front of the mirror that his boss occupies. Not really caring what to say, just caring enough to let the children talk their 'feelings' out, Shinigami-sama spouts off about things like hedge trimmers and polio. Not in the same bout of dialogue, of course, but Death supposed that they could be oddly connected.

When he finally does allow Spirit to return to his wards, the two have put their joysticks on the ground. Even Maka seems amazed at the "PAUSED" covering the middle of the screen. On either side, dimmed only slightly, are the two rectangular characters. They are placed perfectly across from each other, right in the middle of the bold word. And between the "U" and the "S" is the Pong ball. On the top right of the screen is the word "SCORE", and under that is a score of 88,888,888. How quaint.

"Maka-chan!" Death Scythe says in his hopeless voice, "aren't you having fun?"

"Kid showed me more fun," Maka replies simply, not taking her eyes from the screen. Likewise, Kid seems pleased, and that's enough for his father.

: 3 :

"Patty," the Reaper croaks out. His mouth feels dry, his muscles tense. The lighter blonde's eyes dart toward the compact mirror that has fallen out of Kid's suit jacket. Her hands wipe away the remainders of blood, and Death can see just how scraped up her face is.

"We're sorry, sir," the girl says. She sounds serious, which does nothing to put Shinigami-sama at ease. "We did finish our mission, we did; but we got caught up in an ambush. W-when Kid-"

She chokes up at the last word, and Death feels like screaming. On top of his achy body and parched mouth, his throat feels raw, as if he's been physically restraining his own cries.

"-fell, I started fighting with Lizzy. We barely made it.". Tears are streaming down her dirt-coated face, and the wound in her shoulder is still bleeding, albeit less steadily. "I'm so sorry," she mumbles before erupting into sobs. Shinigami-sama can feel her sadness and regret, and he wishes that he could say something to put her at ease; but he can't even help himself. Death can only see the top of Liz's dirty blonde head, bopping up and down; her hands must be moving a mile a minute, and the Reaper can hear the sound of clothing being ripped.

"Turn the mirror, Patty."

It is all Shinigami-sama says, and the younger Thompson sister does so without complaint. The screen is shaking, most likely due to Patty's trembling fingers, but the scene is clear enough. Kid is unconscious, eyes closed, body limp - not his usual unconscious. Liz's hands, almost completely red from her Meister's blood, are moving quickly to stop bleeding and tie off wounds. Right now, she is working on a large gash in his side. It is similar to the one that Patty has, if not more frightening. His arm is twisted in an unnatural way, obviously broken. Liz is using the fabric of his suit for bandages, and she has out the tiny pocketknife that she religiously keeps in her pocket. Kid's face is scratched up, but only slightly. He must have been attacked from behind, because his chest is remarkably uninjured. It is the back that worries Death.

He refuses to Reap his son; it will not happen. Shinigami-sama refuses to. He will break all the rules of Death if need be.

Interestingly, the Reaper hasn't checked Kid's breathing. It is rising up and down, in shallow bursts. Not good, but he's not dead. Liz finally turns her partner onto his side, and Death can make out her strangled cry. There is a claw-like mark on his back, large and menacing. Liz pulls out the handkerchief that she's confiscated from Kid's ruined jacket and begins to dab away some blood so that she can see the full extent of his injury. Her gaze steels, and she ignores her scraped hands as she continues to work. Patty appears beside her, handing Liz a bit of fabric from her shirt. It's not much, but Liz takes it from her sister with an appreciative smile and dabs away a bit of sweat from her Meister's brow. For some reason, Death has been silent. The only thing he can do is call for Spirit.

The redhead has been drinking away his inhibitions at Chupacabra's, but he comes to life quick enough at the tone of his boss's voice. Spirit is reliable when push comes to shove, and Shinigami-sama appreciates that from a Death Scythe. Spirit doesn't even consider saying good-bye to his female acquaintances that he's been coercing with. He slips on his suit jacket, straightens his tie, and is out the door. It seems as if he was never even drunk.

When the Reaper returns his attention back to Liz and Patty (and Kid), he is relieved to see a bit more color in his son's face. He is still unconscious, but more relaxed. Patty is slumped against the wall, drying her tears. Liz herself is still working furiously on her partner, her eyes trained on his still form. Never before has Death seen the woman look so motherly, so focused.

There is a soft cough, and Kid's eyes flutter open. Liz and Patty both fly to his side, and Liz pushes away a few loose bangs from his sweat-coated face.

"Liz? Patty?"

"Hey…" Liz says as softly as humanly possible; her face is etched into a serene smile, and Kid returns the sentiment. "Don't move, 'kay?"

"Mmm…"

Patty looks up at the sound of footsteps. Spirit, Stein, and Marie run toward the pair. Marie's blonde hair is still caught up in her nightly bun with ringlets running down delicately. She has a white jacket over her lavender nightgown. Stein kneels down and checks Kid's pulse, which seems strong enough for him to be moved. He picks up Death's son with no difficulty as Death Scythe steadies Patty. Marie picks up the compact mirror and smiles; she looks both tired and awake at the same time.

"Franken has everything taken care of, Shinigami-sama," she says confidently. But if you want, I'll move the bathroom mirror into his lab."

"That will be fine, thank-you, Marie," the Reaper says; he feels shaky and weak, but the blonde only grins a little wider. Her healing wavelength must work on everyone, because Death already feels a little lighter, less stressed. It's an odd feeling that surprises Shinigami-sama, because certainly Doctor Stein has wanted to experiment on this sensation.

Marie begins to close the mirror but stops. "I promise we'll call you when Franken has everything sorted. Do you mind if I…" she trails off, her golden eyes worried.

"Do what you have to," Shinigami-sama reluctantly sighs. He feels slightly betrayed when the screen of his mirror darkens, but he knows that his son is in good hands. Kid will be fine, he reassures himself; it's all he can do right now.

At least two hours pass before the full-body mirror in Shinigami-sama's room lights up. Marie looks even more tired than before, but her face is serene and sweet. Her mouth is turned into a gentle smile; it is not a foreign thought to think that she could be the only woman in the world to love Stein. She does not see people for their looks (though she claims that Franken Stein is the most attractive man she has ever met), but for the inside, no matter how jumbled those insides may be. "Shinigami-sama," she says softly, "Franken says that I can bring the mirror in. It took a bit of convincing, though…" Her face has a confused expression, as if it was the oddest thing in the world for Stein to be secretive of his lab. "Oh! And I convinced Franken not to experiment!" Marie finishes happily. She is proud of herself, her expression bright.

Shinigami-sama has a hand in the air to stop her, but it slackens awkwardly at her statement. "Well, good…" he says before Marie picks up he mirror with her strength and moves the mirror into the shady lab of Stein.

Kid is laying on a makeshift bed, pale and unconscious, but not troubled. His breathing is even, and Shinigami-sama wants nothing more than to gather his little boy up in his arms and hold him close. "Kid…" He never gets to talk to his son like this (not when Kid is awake, anyway). His little Kid is independent and strong and never asks for anything from anyone. Unless, of course, he's with Liz and Patty.

It appears as if the Reaper has made too much noise, because when he looks up, Kid's golden eyes are staring back at him. The raven-haired boy looks too exhausted for words, yet he is still watching his father intently. "You're staring," Kid says, a (slightly childlike) look of confusion crossing his features.

"So are you," Shinigami-sama retorts. The two share a smile (or the Reaper does so under his mask). Kid adjusts himself on the thin mattress so that he is completely facing the mirror.

It is futile to tell the younger Shinigami not to move, because Kid is Kid, and Kid does what he wants. "I wasn't paying enough attention," Kid whispers suddenly, surprising the Reaper. The way Kid looks is defeated and embarrassed. "What's worse is that Liz and Patty got hurt, too. Garbage, worthless gar-"

"Kid." Shinigami-sama sounds perhaps a bit too forceful, but it does the trick in getting his son to look up. "Liz and Patty only got hurt because they were protecting you. Believe it or not, but you mean the world to them. And you feel the same. You're not garbage or worthless or terrible or any of those things that you normally say. You're Kid, and those lines on your head are simply precious."

The child of Death looks away; he does not blush or smile or burst into chest-heaving sobs. He only nods once in confirmation (of what, Shinigami-sama is not sure), and then turns back to face his father. "Dad-"

"And you're smart and independent and kind and adorable and strong and-"

"Ah, but, Dad-"

"And wise and studious and observant and sweet and caring and fast and a good listener-"

"Perhaps, Fath-"

"Not to mention-"

"Dad?"

"-"

"Thank you!" Kid yells, his voice just a bit louder than his father's. Both stare at the other, before Kid does smile, not a wide one, but an appreciative one. The feeling of hot embarrassment overtakes Shinigami-sama, but his son doesn't seem to notice.

"But really, Father, thank you." With that, Kid rolls over on his side, facing away from the mirror. He doesn't seem to mind his father's presence watching over him, and Shinigami-sama doesn't quite mind being the presence watching over Kid.

: 3 :

It wasn't too many years ago, no more than ten, that Kid is standing beside his father; he is so much shorter than Shinigami-sama, though neither take much notice.

"Father?"

"Yes, Kid?"

"Do you like being my father?"

The question is simple, of course, but it takes more than a moment for the Reaper to process the question. Kid looks at him with an confused expression, but Shinigami-sama places a large hand on his son's ebony head.

"Well, of course I do!"

Kid smiles an appreciative sort of smile.

"But, Kid?"

"Yes?"

"Do you like being my son?"

"Very much so, thank you."


End file.
